


Sense, Sentiment & Sensuality

by Milotzi



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Jane Austen Fusion, F/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 08:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24468091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milotzi/pseuds/Milotzi
Summary: Zelda Spellman has had to be the sensible one of her family since she was a little girl, and yet her story shows that, while she may pride herself in her rational nature, she is capable of deep emotions and sensuality. Austenesque glimpes into the lives of CAOS characters.
Relationships: Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7
Collections: #spellwoodsunday





	Sense, Sentiment & Sensuality

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WitchsMark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchsMark/gifts), [lavenderwitch9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderwitch9/gifts), [HighpriestessZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighpriestessZelda/gifts), [3rdladyblackwood](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=3rdladyblackwood).
  * Inspired by [Sense and Sensibility](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/627289) by Jane Austen. 



> Witches live long right?
> 
> Begun for the prompt #senseandsensibility #spellwoodsunday on Instagram. My apologies to Jane Austen and her readers. Obviously many of the words are not my own, neither are any of the characters. 
> 
> The story will eventually veer away from Jane Austen's narrative.
> 
> My apologies to any fundamentalist or other Christians. None can be as horrible as the horrible Mrs Edward S*** and her relatives. This tale needed Christian villains because of the witch universe in which this is set. I am sure Mrs Edward S*** and her relatives have completely misunderstood the tenets of Christianity.
> 
> Quite likelely there will be no more chapters. I'm not Jane Austen, obviously.

Ambrosia Faustina Blackwood, named after her nightfather, who was also her cousin, and her absent father, lay curled up on the sofa in her den in the attic of the Greendale rectorate and was starting to read one of the dusty manuscripts she had raided from Lady Blackwood's bookshelves, the secret part, the rows of books hidden behind the tomes of Unholy Theology that graced her office. Hopefully this time, the manuscript would be more interesting in terms of subject matter than the lists of wild and domestic animals and shapes familiars could take that was the _Unholy Bestiary: Taming the Wild Ones and Other Unholy Practices _. She had expected, indeed hoped for smut, but if there was smut it was hidden under a spell she had not yet mastered.__

_Sense, Sentiment & Sensuality: A novel. In Three Volumes. By a Lady Witch. Volume I_ sounded less promising but maybe, just maybe, the sensuality part of the title would mean that the work might contained a few enjoyable passages. 

Ambrosia opened the dusty volume, and was shocked to find their village right there in the first sentence. _The family of S*** had been long settled in Greendale._ And who were the S*** family? Could it be...? Whether smutty or not, this was going to be interesting. 

***

1

_The family of S*** had been long settled in Greendale. Consisting of some woods, lands and a mortuary, their estate was large enough, and their residence was near the Sweetwater River, near the unholy places of Satanic worship at the heart of their coven's rites and rituals, where, for many generations, they had lived in so respectable a manner, as to engage the general good opinion of their surrounding witching community and selected mortal acquaintance. The late owner but one, of this estate, was a single warlock and high priest of his coven, Francis S***, who lived to a very advanced age, and who, for many years of his life, had a constant companion and housekeeper in his sister Locasta. But her death, which happened some decades before his own, at the hands of witchhunters, produced a great alteration in his home; for to supply her loss, he invited and received into his house the family of his nephew Mr Edmond S***, the legal inheritor of the S*** estate and mortuary, and the person to whom he had intended to bequeath it. In the society of his nephew and niece, and their daughters Zelda Phiona, Ambrosia Marianne, and Hildegard Antoinette, the old Warlocks's days were comfortably spent. His attachment to them all increased. The constant attention of Mr. and Mrs. Edmond S*** to his wishes, which proceeded not merely from interest, but from a goodness of heart quite unusual to find among witches, gave him every degree of solid comfort which his age could receive; and the cheerfulness of the children added a relish to his existence._

_By a former marriage, Mr. Edmond S*** had one son, Edward: by his present lady, three daughters. The son, a steady respectable young warlock, was amply provided for by the fortune of his mother, which had been large, and half of which devolved on him on his coming of age. By his own marriage to a mortal heiress, likewise, which happened soon afterwards, he added to his wealth. To him therefore the succession to the Greendale estate and mortuary was not so really important as to his sisters; for their fortune, independent of what might arise to them from their father's inheriting that property, could be but small. Their mother, who came from old but penniless witching stock, had nothing, and their father only seven thousand pounds in his own disposal; for the remaining moiety of his first wife's fortune was also secured to her child, and he had only a life-interest in it._

_The old warlock died: his will was read, and like almost every other will, gave as much disappointment as pleasure. He was neither so unjust, nor so ungrateful, as to leave his estate and mortuary from his nephew;--but he left them to him on such terms as destroyed half the value of the bequest. Mr. S*** had wished for it more for the sake of his wife and daughters than for himself or his son;--but to his son, and his son's descendant, as yet unborn, it was secured, in such a way, as to leave to himself no power of providing for those who were most dear to him, and who most needed a provision by any charge on the estate, or by any sale of its valuable woods. The whole was tied up for the benefit of a child, who, as yet unconceived, Edward had persuaded his great-uncle would be a miraculous saviour of their cult, whose unholy destiny was taken to outweigh all the value of all the attention which, for years, he had received from his niece and her daughters. He meant not to be unkind, however, and, as a mark of his affection for the three girls, he left them a thousand pounds a-piece._

_Mr. S***'s disappointment was, at first, severe; but his temper was cheerful and sanguine; and he might reasonably hope to live many years, and by living economically, lay by a considerable sum from the produce of an estate already large, and capable of almost immediate improvement, from his stipend as a newly elected high-priest of their coven and from his income as a teacher at the Unholy Academy. But the fortune, which had been so tardy in coming, was his only one twelvemonth. He survived his uncle no longer; and ten thousand pounds, including the late legacies, was all that remained for his widow and daughters._

_His son was sent for as soon as his danger was known, and to him Mr. S*** recommended, with all the strength and urgency which illness could command, the interest of his mother-in-law and sisters._

_Mr. Edward S*** had not the strong feelings of the rest of the family; but he was affected by a recommendation of such a nature at such a time, and he promised to do every thing in his power to make them comfortable. His father was rendered easy by such an assurance, and Mr. Edward S*** had then leisure to consider how much there might prudently be in his power to do for them._

_He was not an ill-disposed young warlock, unless to be rather cold hearted and rather selfish is to be ill-disposed: but he was, in general, well respected; for he conducted himself with propriety in the discharge of his ordinary duties as a Satanic scholar of high repute. Had he married a respectable witch, he might have been made still more respectable than he was:--he might even have been made amiable himself; for he was very young when he married, and very fond of his wife. But Mrs. Edward S*** was a mortal and a certain kind of Christian --more narrow-minded and selfish even than him, proud to have brought a heathen Satanist to the path of light through her beauty (or so she thought) and quite suspicious of the rest of his family._

_When he gave his promise to his father, he meditated within himself to increase the fortunes of his sisters by the present of a thousand pounds a-piece. He then really thought himself equal to it. The prospect of four thousand a-year, in addition to his present income, besides the remaining half of his own mother's fortune, warmed his heart, and made him feel capable of generosity as much as any warlock is capable of such mortal sentiment. "Yes, he would give them three thousand pounds: it would be liberal and handsome! It would be enough to make them completely easy. Three thousand pounds! he could spare so considerable a sum with little inconvenience."--He thought of it all day long, and for many days successively, and he did not repent._

_No sooner was his father's funeral over, than Mrs. Edward S***, without sending any notice of her intention to her mother-in-law, arrived with her mother and an uncle, who, being a fundamentalist Christian preacher, was also her spiritual advisor. No one could dispute her right to come; the house was her husband's from the moment of his father's decease; but the indelicacy of her conduct was so much the greater, and to a woman in Mrs. S***'s situation, with only common feelings, must have been highly unpleasing;-- but in HER mind there was a sense of honor so keen, a generosity so romantic, that any offence of the kind, by whomsoever given or received, was to her a source of immoveable disgust. Mrs. Edward S*** had obviously never been a favourite with any of her husband's family; but she had had no opportunity, till the present, of shewing them with how little attention to the comfort of people whose faith she did not share she could act when occasion required it._

_So acutely did Mrs. S*** feel this ungracious behaviour, and so earnestly did she despise her daughter-in-law for it, that, on the arrival of the latter, she would have quitted the house for ever, had not the entreaty of her eldest girl induced her first to reflect on the propriety of abruptly leaving their coven, and her own tender love for all her three children determined her afterwards to stay, and for their sakes avoid a breach with their brother._

_Zelda, this eldest daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage of them all, that eagerness of mind in Mrs. S***, which must generally have led to imprudence. She had an excellent heart;--her disposition was affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn; and which one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught._

_Ambrosia's abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Zelda's. She was sensible and clever; but eager in everything: her sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation. She was generous, amiable, interesting: she was everything but prudent. The resemblance between her and her mother was strikingly great._

_Zelda saw, with concern, the excess of her sister's sensibility; but by Mrs. S*** it was valued and cherished. They encouraged each other now in the violence of their affliction. The agony of grief which overpowered them at first, was voluntarily renewed, was sought for, was created again and again. They gave themselves up wholly to their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection that could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation in future. Zelda, too, was deeply afflicted; but still she could struggle, she could exert herself. She could consult with her brother, could receive her sister-in-law and her relatives on their arrival, and treat her with proper attention; and could strive to rouse her mother to similar exertion, and encourage her to similar forbearance._

_Hilda, the other sister, was a good-humored, well-disposed girl; but as she had already imbibed a good deal of Ambrosia's romance, without having much of her sense, she did not, at thirteen, bid fair to equal her sisters at a more advanced period of life._

***

Ambrosia was hooked. All the names belonged to her own maternal family, so maybe her hunch had been right... 

As she skimmed through the pages of chapter two, she decided she despised that Mrs Edward S***, what was her name, Diana. Diana, could that be her cousin's mother? But everyone, including Lady Blackwood, who did not praise anyone lightly, had always spoken highly of Sabrina's mother, and also of her uncle Edward... And surely this was too long ago for the nineteen-year-old older sister to be her own mother... So maybe not the same family? But then so much seemed to fit. Even her own name was in it, and she had a hunch it was in the family before Cousin Ambrose, so maybe it was a family tale of a previous generation? She would have to read on and see. What a bitch that Diana S*** was..., a proper Shirley Jackson. 

***

2

...

_"Upon my word," said Mr. S***, "I believe you are perfectly right. My father certainly could mean nothing more by his request to me than what you say. I clearly understand it now, and I will strictly fulfil my engagement by such acts of assistance and kindness to them as you have described. When my stepmother removes into another house my services shall be readily given to accommodate her as far as I can. Some little present of furniture too may be acceptable then."_

_"Certainly," returned Mrs. Edward S***. "But, however, ONE thing must be considered. When your father and mother moved to Greendale, though the furniture of their original house was sold, all the china, plate, and linen was saved, and is now left to your stepmother, the Widow S***. Her new house will therefore be almost completely fitted up as soon as she takes it."_

_"That is a material consideration undoubtedly. A valuable legacy indeed! And yet some of the plate would have been a very pleasant addition to our own stock here."_

_"Yes; and the set of breakfast china is twice as handsome as what belongs to this house. A great deal too handsome, in my opinion, for any place THEY can ever afford to live in. But, however, so it is. Your father thought only of THEM. And I must say this: that you owe no particular gratitude to him, nor attention to his wishes; for we very well know that if he could, he would have left almost everything in the world to THEM."_

_This argument was irresistible. It gave to his intentions whatever of decision was wanting before; and he finally resolved, that it would be absolutely unnecessary, if not highly indecorous, to do more for the widow and children of his father, than such kind of neighbourly acts as his own wife pointed out._

***

No, Edward S*** could not be Edward Spellman, reformer, high priest, and beloved late brother of her mother's. Such a weak and despicable character. No she decided, no member of the Spellman family (or in-law to the Blackwood clan) could be such a weakling. If this reflected her family history, it surely was fiction. The work was a novel after all. Probably the lady witch who wrote it was an enemy of the family. Yes. 

Ambrosia considered abandoning the book, but curiosity won over, and was rewarded by the introduction of a new character whose appearance ensured that, whatever this was, she needed to read it...

***

3

_Mrs. S*** remained at the S*** house several months; not from any disinclination to move when the sight of every well known spot ceased to raise the violent emotion which it produced for a while; for when her spirits began to revive, and her mind became capable of some other exertion than that of heightening its affliction by melancholy remembrances, she was impatient to be gone, and indefatigable in her inquiries for a suitable dwelling in the neighbourhood of Greendale; for to remove far from that beloved spot was impossible. But she could hear of no situation that at once answered her notions of comfort and ease, and suited the prudence of her eldest daughter, whose steadier judgment rejected several houses as too large for their income, which her mother would have approved._

_Mrs. S*** had been informed by her husband of the solemn promise on the part of his son in their favour, which gave comfort to his last earthly reflections. She doubted the sincerity of this assurance no more than he had doubted it himself, and she thought of it for her daughters' sake with satisfaction, though as for herself she was persuaded that a much smaller provision than 7,000 would support her in affluence. For their brother's sake, too, for the sake of his own heart, she rejoiced; and she reproached herself for being unjust to his merit before, in believing him incapable of generosity. His attentive behaviour to herself and his sisters convinced her that their welfare was dear to him, and, for a long time, she firmly relied on the liberality of his intentions._

_The contempt which she had, very early in their acquaintance, felt for her daughter-in-law, was very much increased by the farther knowledge of her character, which half a year's residence in her family afforded; and perhaps in spite of every consideration of politeness or maternal affection on the side of the former, the two ladies might have found it impossible to have lived together so long, had not a particular circumstance occurred to give still greater eligibility, according to the opinions of Mrs. S***, to her daughters' continuance at the S*** residence._

_This circumstance was a growing attachment between her eldest girl and the mentor of Mr. S***, a gentleman-like, scholarly and pleasing not yet middle-aged man, who was introduced to their acquaintance soon after his mentee's establishment as the High Priest of Greendale, and who had since spent the greatest part of his time there._

_Some mothers might have encouraged the intimacy from motives of interest, for Faustus B*** was the eldest son of a warlock and member of the Antipope's Council, who had died very rich; and some might have repressed it from motives of prudence, for, except a trifling sum, the whole of his fortune depended on the will of his mother, a stern and formidable witch known to have dedicated her life to the furtherance and support of orphaned witches. But Mrs. S*** was alike uninfluenced by either consideration. It was enough for her that he appeared to be amiable, that he preferred the company of her daughter to anyone else in the house, and that Zelda returned the partiality. It was contrary to every doctrine of her's that difference of fortune should keep any couple asunder who were attracted by resemblance of disposition; and that Zelda's merit should not be acknowledged by every one who knew her, was to her comprehension impossible._

_Faustus B*** was not recommended to their good opinion by any peculiar graces of person or address. His complexion was too dark, his hair too unruly, for him to be called handsome according to the fashion of the time, and his manners required intimacy to make them pleasing. He was too diffident to do justice to himself; but when his natural shyness was overcome, his behaviour gave every indication of an open, affectionate heart. His understanding was good, and his education had given it solid improvement. But he was neither fitted by abilities nor disposition to answer the wishes of his mother, who longed to see him distinguished--as--she hardly knew what. She wanted him to make a fine figure in the witching community in some manner or other. His mother wished to interest him in political rather than theological concerns, to get him into the higher ranks of the Unholy Church, or to see him connected to some witch from one of the great witching families of the day. In the mean while, till one of these superior unholy blessings could be attained, it would have quieted her ambition to see him attain a position as the leader of his own unholy coven. But Father B*** seemed to be free of all such ambitions. All his wishes centered in creature comforts and the quiet pleasures of studying and teaching. Fortunately he had a younger brother who was more promising._

_Father B*** had been staying several weeks in the house and had been teaching at the Unholy Academy for a while before he engaged much of Mrs. S***'s attention; for she was, at that time, in such affliction as rendered her careless of surrounding objects. She saw only that he was quiet and unobtrusive, and she liked him for it. He did not disturb the wretchedness of her mind by ill-timed conversation. She was first called to observe and approve him farther, by a reflection which Zelda chanced one day to make on the difference between him and her sister-in-law's uncle, the preacher, whose incessant chatter never stopped as he attempted to convert his brother-in-law's family to the holy path of light. It was a contrast which recommended him most forcibly to her mother._

_"It is enough," said she; "to say that he is unlike that man is enough. It implies everything worthy. I love him already."_

_"I think you will like him," said Zelda, "when you know more of him."_

_"Like him!" replied her mother with a smile. "I feel no sentiment of approbation inferior to love."_

_"You may esteem him." Her daughter was not to be drawn into admitting any other feelings._

_"I have never yet known what it was to separate esteem and love. Or, indeed," and Mrs. S*** cast a stern but loving look at her eldest, "not been able to detect lust, which, my dear, a witch should never be ashamed of."_

_Zelda's blushed cheeks and the involuntary movements of her body revealed to her mother that all was well between her and Mr B*** in that respect. So maybe her daughter's recent little scandal, when she did not only not give up her role as Eve in _The Passion of Lucifer Morningstar_ despite the period of mourning they were all still in but when she also chose to appear in much less of a costume than any witch before her had ever done, had been due to her wish to impress a certain new teacher at the school after all._

_Mrs. S*** now took pains to get acquainted with him. Her manners were attaching, and soon banished his reserve. She speedily comprehended all his merits, and if she had not been so fond of the late Mr S*** and her daughter, she might have considered a quick entanglement herself; the depth of the warlock's blue eyes and his sensuous lips, once he relaxed a little, might have made a fling a nice distraction from her sorrows; however, she decided against such a step; the persuasion of his regard for Zelda perhaps assisted her penetration; but she really felt assured of his worth: and even that the at first seemingly cold reserve of manner and his crippled leg, which militated against all her established ideas of what a warlock's address and form ought to be, did no longer mean that he was uninteresting when she knew his heart to be warm, his understanding of Satanic worship to be sound, and his temper to be affectionate, towards both his mentee and her eldest daughter._

_Mrs. S*** was an old-fashioned kind of witch, and despite her husband's unfortunate philandering habits, did not see how any warlock could act but honourably within good witching society. No sooner did she perceive any symptom of his being drawn to Zelda, than she considered their serious attachment as certain, and looked forward to their marriage as rapidly approaching._

_"In a few months, my dear Ambrosia." said she, "Zelda will, in all probability be settled for life. We shall miss her; but SHE will be happy."_

_"Oh! Mamma, how shall we do without her?"_

_"My love, it will be scarcely a separation. We shall live within a few miles of each other, and shall meet every day of our lives. You will gain a brother, a real, affectionate brother. I have the highest opinion in the world of Father B***'s affections for this family. But you look grave, Ambrosia; do you disapprove your sister's choice?"_

_"Perhaps," said Ambrosia, "I may consider it with some surprise. Father B*** is very pleasant, and I love him tenderly. But yet--he is not the kind of warlock--there is something wanting--his figure is not striking; it has none of that grace which I should expect in the man who could seriously attach my sister. His eyes want all that unholy spirit, that hell fire, which at once announce damnation and intelligence. And besides all this, I am afraid, Mamma, he has no real taste. Music seems to attract him but is is the wrong kind, and though he admires Zelda's singing very much, it is not the admiration of a person who can understand. It is evident, in spite of his frequent attention to her while she sings, that in fact he knows nothing of the matter. He admires as a lover, not as a connoisseur. To satisfy me, those characters must be united. I could not be happy with a man whose taste did not in every point coincide with my own. He must enter into all my feelings; the same books, the same music must charm us both. Oh! mama, how spiritless, how tame was Father B***'s manner in reading to us last night! I felt for my sister most severely. Yet she bore it with so much composure, she seemed scarcely to notice it. I could hardly keep my seat. To hear those beautiful lines which have frequently almost driven me wild, pronounced with such impenetrable calmness, such dreadful indifference! I almost thought his raised eye-brow indicated irony..."--_

_"He would certainly have done more justice to simple and elegant unholy prose. I thought so at the time; but you WOULD give him Baudelaire."_

_"Nay, Mamma, if he is not to be animated by Baudelaire!-- but we must allow for difference of taste. Zelda has not my feelings, and therefore she may overlook it, and be happy with him. But it would have broke MY heart, had I loved him, to hear him read with so little sensibility and passion. Mama, the more I know of the world, the more am I convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love. I require so much! He must have all Father B***'s advantages, and his person and manners must ornament his merits with every possible charm."_

_"Remember, my love, that you are not seventeen. It is yet too early in life to despair of such a happiness. Why should you be less fortunate than your mother? In one circumstance only, my Ambrosia, may your destiny be different from her's!"_

4

_"What a pity it is, Zelda," said Ambrosia, "that Father B*** should have no taste for singing."_

_"No taste for singing!" replied Zelda, "why should you think so? He does not sing himself, indeed, but he has great pleasure in listening to and observing the performances of other people, and I assure you he is by no means deficient in natural taste, though he has not had opportunities of improving it. Had he ever been in the way of learning, I think he would have sung very well. He distrusts his own judgment in such matters so much, that he is always unwilling to give his opinion on any performance; but he has an innate propriety and simplicity of taste, which in general direct him perfectly right."_

_Ambrosia was afraid of offending, and said no more on the subject; but the kind of approbation which Zelda described as excited in him by the vocal performances of other people, was very far from that rapturous delight, which, in her opinion, could alone be called taste. Yet, though smiling within herself at the mistake, she honoured her sister for that blind partiality to Father B*** which produced it._

_"I hope, Ambrosia," continued Zelda, "you do not consider him as deficient in general taste. Indeed, I think I may say that you cannot, for your behaviour to him is perfectly cordial, and if THAT were your opinion, I am sure you could never be civil to him."_

_Ambrosia hardly knew what to say. She would not wound the feelings of her sister on any account, and yet to say what she did not believe was impossible. At length she replied:_

_"Do not be offended, Zelda, if my praise of him is not in every thing equal to your sense of his merits. I have not had so many opportunities of estimating the minuter propensities of his mind, his inclinations and tastes, as you have; but I have the highest opinion in the world of his intellect and sense. I think him every thing that is worthy."_

_"I am sure," replied Zelda, with a smile, "that his dearest friends could not be dissatisfied with such commendation as that. I do not perceive how you could express yourself more warmly."_

_Ambrosia was rejoiced to find her sister so easily pleased._

_"Of his sense and his worthiness," continued Zelda, blushing slightly "no one can, I think, be in doubt, who has seen him often enough to engage him in unreserved conversation. The excellence of his understanding and his principles can be concealed only by that shyness which too often keeps him silent. You know enough of him to do justice to his solid worth. But of his minuter propensities, as you call them you have from peculiar circumstances been kept more ignorant than myself. He and I have been at times thrown a good deal together, while you have been wholly engrossed on the most affectionate principle by my mother. I have seen a great deal of him, have studied his sentiments and heard his opinion on subjects of the unholy scripture and taste; and, upon the whole, I venture to pronounce that his mind is well-informed, enjoyment of books exceedingly great, his imagination lively, his observation just and correct, and his taste delicate and impure. His abilities in every respect improve as much upon acquaintance as his manners and person. At first sight, his address is certainly not striking; and, with his olive complexion, his unruly hair and his limp, his person can hardly be called handsome, till the expression of his eyes, which are uncommonly good, and the general earnestness of his countenance, is perceived. At present, I know him so well, that I think him really handsome; or at least, almost so. What say you, Ambrosia?"_

_"I shall very soon think him handsome, Zelda, if I do not now. When you tell me to love him as a brother, I shall no more see imperfection in his face, than I now do in his heart."_

_Zelda started at this declaration, and was sorry for the warmth she had been betrayed into, in speaking of him. She felt that Faustus stood very high in her opinion. She believed the regard to be mutual; but she required greater certainty of it to make Ambrosia's conviction of their attachment agreeable to her. She knew that what Ambrosia and her mother conjectured one moment, they believed the next--that with them, to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect. She tried to explain the real state of the case to her sister._

_"I do not attempt to deny," said she, "that I think very highly of him--that I greatly esteem, that I like him."_

_Ambrosia here burst forth with indignation--_

_"Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Zelda! Oh! worse than cold-hearted! Ashamed of being otherwise. Use those words again, and I will leave the room this moment."_

_Zelda could not help laughing. "Excuse me," said she; "and be assured that I meant no offence to you, by speaking, in so quiet a way, of my own feelings. Believe them to be stronger than I have declared; believe them, in short, to be such as his merit, and the suspicion--the hope of his affection for me may warrant, without imprudence or folly. But farther than this you must not believe. I am by no means assured of his regard for me. There are moments when the extent of it seems doubtful; and till his sentiments are fully known, you cannot wonder at my wishing to avoid any encouragement of my own partiality, by believing or calling it more than it is. In my heart I feel little--scarcely any doubt of his preference. But there are other points to be considered besides his inclination. He is very far from being independent. What his mother really is we cannot know; but, from our brother Edward's occasional mention of her conduct and opinions, we have never been disposed to think her amiable towards our family; and I am very much mistaken if Faus-, Father B* is not himself aware that there would be many difficulties in his way, if he were to wish to marry a witch who had not either a great fortune or high rank."_

_Ambrosia was astonished to find how much the imagination of her mother and herself had outstripped the truth._

_"And you really are not engaged to him!" said she. "Yet it certainly soon will happen. But two advantages will proceed from this delay. I shall not lose you so soon, and Father B*** will have greater opportunity of improving that natural taste for your favourite pursuit which must be so indispensably necessary to your future felicity. Oh! if he should be so far stimulated by your genius as to learn to sing himself, how delightful it would be!"_

_Zelda had given her real opinion to her sister. She could not consider her partiality for Father B*** in so prosperous a state as Ambrosia had believed it. There was, at times, a want of spirits, a sadness, or depression about him which, if it did not denote indifference, spoke of something almost as unpromising. A doubt of her regard, supposing him to feel it, need not give him more than inquietude. It would not be likely to produce that dejection of mind which frequently attended him. A more reasonable cause might be found in the dependent situation which forbade the indulgence of his affection. She knew that his mother neither behaved to him so as to make his home comfortable at present, nor to give him any assurance that he might form a home for himself, without strictly attending to her views for his aggrandizement. With such a knowledge as this, it was impossible for Zelda to feel easy on the subject. She was far from depending on that result of his preference of her, which her mother and sister still considered as certain. Nay, the longer they were together the more doubtful seemed the nature of his regard; and sometimes, for a few painful minutes, she believed it to be no more than a passing friendship, a temporary appreciation of her body and her intellect, rather than anything deeper or more permanent. His kissing and fondling had grown less frequent in previous weeks even though she could not complain about the passion with which they were applied, if they occured; indeed, she could not help feel that his attention had become less focused, that his desire was less incessantly expressed, and that his fancy stuck less often than previously. Since her own passions, once roused, tended to increase rather than decrease, and since she, seemingly unlike Faustus, got hungrier for the food of lust the more she ate of it, this had begun to worry her._

_Her brother's and sister-in-law's lack of genuine fondness of the S*** witches they were accomodating added to Zelda's troubles. Even her former allies at the Unholy Academy were beginning to show her and Ambrosia the cold shoulder, since the new headmaster clearly did not consider them favourites. And at home, Diana's mother's and uncle's prozelytizinig and moralizing was increasingly hard to bear, despite the pleasures of Faustus's company. Indeed, the young Mrs S*** herself had begun reading holy scriptures on the topic of harlotry at her in a manner, that Mrs. S*** could neither pretend to be unconscious, nor endeavor to be calm. She gave her an answer which marked her contempt, and instantly left the room, resolving that, whatever might be the inconvenience or expense of so sudden a removal, her beloved Zelda should not be exposed another week to such insinuations._

_In this state of her spirits, a letter was delivered to her from the post, which contained a proposal particularly well timed. It was the offer of a small house, on very easy terms, belonging to a relation of her own, a warlock of some consequence and property in the countryside around Rome. The letter was from this warlock himself, and written in the true spirit of friendly accommodation. He understood that she was in need of a dwelling; and though the house he now offered her was merely a cottage, he assured her that everything should be done to it which she might think necessary, if the situation pleased her. He earnestly pressed her, after giving the particulars of the house and garden, to come with her daughters to the Villa de Bartoli, the place of his own residence, from whence she might judge, herself, whether Viletta Bartolini, for the houses were in the same parish, could, by any alteration, be made comfortable to her. He seemed really anxious to accommodate them and the whole of his letter was written in so friendly a style as could not fail of giving pleasure to his cousin; more especially at a moment when she was suffering under the cold and unfeeling behaviour of her nearer connections. She needed no time for deliberation or inquiry. Her resolution was formed as she read. The situation of Bartolini, in a county so far distant from Greendale as Italy, which, but a few hours before, would have been a sufficient objection to outweigh every possible advantage belonging to the place, was now its first recommendation. To quit the neighbourhood of Greendale was no longer an evil; it was an object of desire; it was an unholy blessing, in comparison of the misery of continuing her daughter-in-law's guest; and to remove for ever from that beloved place would be less painful than to inhabit or visit it while such a sainted woman was its mistress. She instantly wrote to her cousin her acknowledgment of his kindness, and her acceptance of his proposal; and then hastened to shew both letters to her daughters, that she might be secure of their approbation before her answer were sent._

_Zelda had always thought it would be more prudent for them to settle at some distance from Greendale, than immediately amongst their present acquaintance. On THAT head, therefore, it was not for her to oppose her mother's intention of removing to Italy. The house, too, as described by their relative, was on so simple a scale, and the rent so uncommonly moderate, as to leave her no right of objection on either point; and, therefore, though it was not a plan which brought any charm to her fancy, though it was a removal from the vicinity of Greendale beyond her wishes, she made no attempt to dissuade her mother from sending a letter of acquiescence._

_Father B***, who politely had offered to post Mrs S*** reply to her relative on his next trip to Riverdale, made no remark concerning the four witches' planned move to another continent, either, and Zelda's heart sank as she observed his back retreat from the door, his limp becoming more pronounced the smaller his figure became._

***

What an idiot, Ambrosia Faustina Blackwood thought, as she slammed the book shut. And what a wet blanket that Zelda was. No way, either of these weakling characters could have anything to do with her parents; the Traitor Blackwood, as he was generally known, was a byword for flares of unprovoked murderous anger and and his loud and booming voice that could tempt the most unholy witch from the dark path of unrighteousness into the madness of the Eldritch Terrors, as handsome and dangerous as the Dark Lord himself, club foot or no club foot. No way he could be this cowardly, quiet, well-mannered character. lusty, yes, but clearly lacking in stamina. Or be descended from him. And Zelda? That meek Zelda was as unlike her fierce and awesome mother, who made family, coven and students tremble as soon as they caused her displeasure, as any character could be. No way she or her parents could be related to the witches and warlocks in this book. Except Ambrosia, that Ambrosia seemed to have a bit more mettle and guts than the rest. She bet Ambrosia S*** did raise a fuss about the move...

No, Ambrosia thought, it must all be a coincidence, that all the names in that miserable excuse of a work of fiction seemed to fit her family's ... or maybe this was an effort to blackmail them or slander... Her mother must have hidden these volumes in her secret shelf for a reason... 

Maybe there would be some clues in later chapters...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...
> 
> Well, at least I had fun so far. I do hope there are some who enjoy this; also: go and read Jane Austen :)
> 
> More smut ahead, at least as far as I can see..., and more of my own writing...


End file.
